by Pat Simmons
After wiping her hands, Tabitha checked the time, then relaxed. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes, then I have to get on the road.”
“You know, despite the time crunch, this is nice—us having lunch. I guess we can call this a pre-real date.”
Tabitha slapped his hand. “You won’t give up, will you?”
“I can’t, don’t want to, and won’t.” Again, he kept a straight face, so she would know he was serious.
“Somehow, you’re making a believer out of me. Although I still don’t think this is an ideal way to start a relationship—me as a caregiver. When Aunt Tweet isn’t at Bermuda Place, she’s with me.”
“I already knew that when I signed on as your caregiver, but I’ve seen your kindness, love, and support of your loved one. I’m attracted to all those qualities and more.”
“You make me wonder what it would be like in a real relationship with you.” She exhaled. “But I’m not convinced it would work.”
“If there is even a hint of a challenge in what you just stated, I plan to convince you otherwise.” Marcus smirked. “You can’t stop caring about Aunt Tweet, but neither can I cut off my feelings for you. Trust me, your aunt can’t get in the way of this.” He escorted her outside, then opened her car door. “I’ll bring dinner tonight, so don’t worry about cooking.”
“Did you hear a word of what I said?” She looked up from her seat.
“Your heart was louder, and I have selective hearing.” He grinned, then leaned down.
Tabitha lifted her cheek for the expected kiss. Instead, he cupped her soft chin in his hand and brought her lips to his. The kiss was too brief. “You have been warned, Miss Knicely—I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
One kiss. One short, sweet kiss, and Tabitha’s heart hadn’t stopped dancing. Her lips still tingled from Marcus’s touch as she drove to the next doctor’s office. She had a hard time recovering from the dreamy state and getting back in work mode. “What am I going to do?”
She waited to see if God would answer her. Nothing. Bummer. Tabitha honestly didn’t know what she should do. Her heart, lips, and eyes screamed Don’t you dare let that man walk away! at the same time her mind said You can’t handle him and Aunt Tweet at the same time. Stay focused.
Since they weren’t in sync, she needed advice. Who could she confide in? Not her sisters, especially since Kym thought Marcus was a distraction.
Her aunt had always been her confidante, even when her parents were alive, giving her straight talk from a woman who had seen the world. Tabitha’s heart dipped. The thought that Aunt Tweet was fading—or had already faded—away made her eyes water. She sniffed. Weren’t her days of instant boo-hooing over? Isn’t that what she thought earlier when she chatted with Ava Elise?
Tabitha connected with her more as a friend than her former trainer. When Ava Elise could have had her terminated from the training program, she’d reached out with a sympathetic ear instead and served as a silent cheerleader to see her succeed.
Hopefully, they could chat in the morning. Right now, her mission was to see her remaining four doctors, pick up Aunt Tweet from Bermuda Place, and go home.
That evening, true to his word, Marcus arrived at her door with carryout from Boston Market in his arms, but tiredness lingered on his face. “Hey.”
Her guilt trip was back. She swallowed her sorrow. “You look beat,” she said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but wanting more.
“And you look pretty. Sorry I’m late. I needed to go over some things with my crew first.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” She allowed him entry, then closed her door.
“I feel I do.” The smile he gave her was so endearing she felt faint. She ignored that feeling until she could get Ava Elise’s take on her dilemma.
Within minutes, all three were gathered at the table, thanks was given for their meal, and they ate, barely pausing for conversation. Afterward, Aunt Tweet retreated to the family room for her game shows while Marcus helped Tabitha tidy up her kitchen. When he made a move toward the family room, she gathered up the courage to say something she didn’t feel. “Thanks for dinner, but you need to go home.”
“Huh?” He gave her a confused look. “I was just about to play cards with Aunt Tweet, and you want to put me out?”
“Yes, for your own good,” she said softly with a smile. “Go home and get some rest…please.”
He hesitated, but the pleading in her voice must have convinced him that she was looking out for him. “Okay. I am tired. What about you?”
“I think we’re going to head to bed soon. I’ll get up early in the morning and do some reading.”
“Okay, babe.” He hugged her.
A kiss and an endearment on the same day—she’d scored big.
The next morning, Tabitha walked into the Ceyle-Norman break room on a mission. As expected, Ava Elise was camped out in the corner, sipping on coffee and working a crossword puzzle. Since she carpooled with her husband, the woman usually arrived at the office at least an hour early.
Ava Elise glanced up. “More drug samples two days in a row? You know that could send a red flag for illegal drug activity or that you’re exceeding your quota big time.” She folded her hands. “I’m hoping it’s the latter, because I like you.” Her eyes twinkled.
“No samples today.” Taking the seat across from her, Tabitha grinned as Ava Elise didn’t hide her relief. “I need advice in confidence, since you know what’s going on in my personal life.”
“Of course.” The lines etched across Ava Elise’s forehead were evidence of her concern.
“I’m stressed,” Tabitha confessed.
Closing her book, she gave Tabitha her full attention. “O-okay—the job or your aunt?”
“Both, to be honest. I love my job. I had everything mapped out to care for my aunt…but being a caregiver is more intense than any textbook could detail. A few times…”
She paused because she was ashamed to admit this, which is why she hadn’t told her sisters. “My mind is sending mixed messages. I feel my life would be better if Aunt Tweet were in a nursing home—I also thought about quitting my job to become a full-time caregiver. Since I’m not eligible for Family Medical Leave, and I’m a one-person household, my savings would be drained, even with the stipend from my aunt’s trust fund for her care.”
“If you’re not getting any help—”
“I am,” Tabitha said slowly. “This is where I could use some unbiased advice. My neighbor has been stepping in to ease my burden.”
“Excellent! That’s great news.” Ava Elise grinned. “My neighbors are one of the reasons I haven’t moved. We’ve babysat each other’s children…”
Tabitha lifted her hand to stop Ava Elise’s roll. “You don’t understand. My neighbor is fine, strong, and compassionate…and he thinks we should date.”
“Even better.” Her friend beamed. Her eyes sparkled as she folded her arms and leaned across the table. Clearly, she was waiting for more details.
Her excitement was making Tabitha exhausted. “I have no room on my schedule for free time.”
“What about having a nurse’s aide to sit with your aunt for a few hours to make room for this hunk?” Before Tabitha could shoot down that idea, her confidante continued, “Any man who is willing to help with the care of a loved one who isn’t related to him—whether it’s an elderly relative or child—is a jewel. There are men who walk away from their responsibility and don’t look back. Think hard about this before turning him away.”
Tabitha sighed and tapped her fingers on the table. She hadn’t thought about that. “There’s something about Marcus that makes me dream about candlelight dinners, movies, and picnics. But doing that”—she paused and frowned—“would make me feel like I’m casting Aunt Tweet aside. She’s a guest in my home because I love and idoli
ze her, and she’s family.” She shook her head. “I don’t know… It seems so wrong to me.”
Ava Elise moved her lips from side to side. She was conjuring up a solution. “Didn’t you tell me she’s in your care for six months?”
“Yes. It’s a six-month rotation with my sisters. That’s what we agreed upon. It’s been almost two months, and the wear and tear on my mind and body make it seem like years. I can accept putting my wants and desires on hold, but I feel like I’m aging at a faster rate, if that makes sense.”
“My advice to you is number one, take the neighbor and all he’s willing to give you. Two, get a nurse’s aide so you can go out for a few hours and breathe. I would definitely suggest you pencil in a monthly spa visit to ease some of that tension.” Ava Elise stood. “I wish I had more time to walk you through this, but I need to prepare for my class.”
“Thanks for listening and not judging me. In the past, my sisters and Aunt Tweet have been my confidantes. Under the circumstances, I didn’t want to bring this up with Kym and Rachel.”
“Every caregiver’s situation is different, depending on the needs of the loved ones. My situation was different from yours, so I can’t judge you.” She shrugged. “I’ll be praying you won’t have any regrets about how you cared for your aunt when she’s no longer on this earth.”
Tabitha froze as a chill ran down her spine. Didn’t the minister mention something like that in the sermon? Was God finally talking to her? The Bible reading she’d claimed she was going to do had been hit or miss. Thank You, Lord, for not holding it against me. Maybe God would speak to her at church. She couldn’t wait to find out.
Chapter 23
Sunday morning, Tabitha forced her eyes open despite her desire for more sleep. She stretched and braced for Aunt Tweet to barge into the bedroom any minute. Then she realized it was too quiet in the house. Tabitha slipped out of bed and crossed the hall. Peeping into Aunt Tweet’s bedroom, she noticed her aunt was still sleeping. Tabitha scrunched her nose; the room didn’t smell fresh. After church, she would change the sheets, although she had just done the task four days earlier.
Backing out, Tabitha walked downstairs to feed Sweet Pepper and let him outside. Next, she started a breakfast of eggs, rice, and turkey links.
With twenty minutes to spare, she showered, finished her makeup, and dressed. Almost giddy with excitement, she sat in the chair, looking out of the window, waiting to surprise Aunt Tweet. Glancing at her watch, she frowned. Why hadn’t her aunt made an appearance? Going back into the bedroom, she nudged Aunt Tweet. “It’s Sunday. We’re going to be late for church.”
Aunt Tweet moaned. “I’m tired this morning. Don’t feel like going.” She rolled over.
Five days a week, Aunt Tweet was on a laborious schedule that Tabitha had created, so perhaps it was a good idea to let her eighty-five-year-old aunt sleep in. Tabitha had made some serious effort this morning to go to church, eager to see if God truly had a custom-made message just for her. Maybe the Lord would put it on hold until next time.
“It’s okay. Rest as long as you need to.” Disappointed, she covered her aunt, kissed her cheek, then strolled out of her room, slipping out of her heels in a few steps. She spied her toes and exhaled. She was way overdue for a soothing manicure and pedicure. Maybe later, if her aunt felt up to it, they could treat themselves with an outing.
She was undressing when she heard Aunt Tweet’s feet dragging on the floor. The door opened and her aunt came out, rubbing her eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me? It’s Sunday, ain’t it? We’re going to be late if you don’t get up.”
Huh? Aunt Tweet’s absentmindedness could be exhausting at times, but not today. Tabitha laughed with joy. “I’m ready. Let’s find you something to wear.”
While she helped Aunt Tweet bathe, her aunt mumbled, “You never know whose hand is going to give you that last piece of bread. I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
Tabitha held her breath as her heart seemed to float. “I know you do.” Again, she felt ashamed for her thoughts of woe is me when her aunt was possibly dying and trying to prepare her. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the years, so it’s my pleasure to do things for you now.” She smiled wide, so her aunt could see she meant what she said. Lord, please don’t let her die in my care. Please.
Even with their late arrival at church, they were able to find a parking spot not far from the door. Moments after settling in their seats, Marcus surprisingly appeared. Overjoyed but perplexed, Tabitha scooted over to make room. “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”
“Well,” he said, linking his fingers through hers and bringing her hand to his lips, “I could tell you were disappointed when I said that, so here I am.”
The things this man was willing to do for her—both spoken and unspoken requests—was humbling. Pleased, she squeezed his hand. As expected, Aunt Tweet blended her voice along with the singers. When she didn’t know the words, she hummed.
Closing her eyes, Tabitha took a deep breath, prayed, then opened them to scan the sanctuary. The music was so stirring that many people were on their feet rejoicing. Even Marcus stood. He reached for Tabitha’s hand and tugged her to her feet. In unison, they clapped to the group’s rendition of Hezekiah Walker’s “Total Praise.”
As the music faded, Pastor Nelson walked to the podium with his Bible tucked under his arm. He followed protocol with announcements, then welcoming visitors.
Tabitha was hyped to hear the sermon. She wanted God to speak to her through the message.
“Now, for the good stuff. Some of you may have been carrying a heavy load this week—or maybe for a while. Trust me. Believe that God is working behind the scenes on our behalf. I have only two scriptures for you today: 1 Peter 5:7. Know that the Lord cares for you, so give Him your burdens. The other one is in the Old Testament: Psalm 149:4, God delights in doing great things for His children. He doesn’t get weary…like we do.” Pastor Nelson preached until Tabitha could feel God’s presence consume her being, then she heard the Lord speaking to her spirit, and somehow, she knew things in her life were about to change.
* * *
Sunday at church, Marcus could only accredit the Holy Ghost with propelling him to the altar for prayer after he repented of sins, then consent to the water baptism in Jesus’s name. What followed was an anointing so heavy that a heavenly language flowed from his mouth.
Days after his Nicodemus experience with the Lord, Marcus glanced around his work space and shared office with thanksgiving and acknowledged that the Lord had blessed his business. He was on a spiritual high when he left his office for an appointment. As he headed toward the main parking lot, Marcus spied an unexpected visitor standing at the entrance desk, speaking to the receptionist.
“Mr. Whittington, I told Victor he was banned from the premises, but he refuses to leave without seeing you,” Sandra said.
Really? He stared Victor Graves down. There goes my good mood.
Marcus took a cleansing breath. “What can I do for you?” he asked curtly.
“A few minutes. Just hear me out.” Victor held up his hands in surrender, and Marcus noted that Victor’s cockiness was gone and his tone was nonthreatening.
Yet the man didn’t have a good track record, and Marcus didn’t trust him. “Sandra, alert security.” Marcus had to consider the safety of his employees. There had been too many mass shootings at workplaces from disgruntled former employees.
This receptionist gasped and picked up the phone.
“I guess I deserve that.” Victor nodded and bit his lip.
Marcus kept his eyes locked on the Victor, trying to anticipate the man’s next move, and watched as Victor reached into his pocket, possibly for a weapon. Marcus wasn’t a wrestling champ for nothing—his adrenaline kicked in, and he charged his ex-employee.
Younger and faster, Victor moved out of harm
’s way. “Hey, man. I just wanted to give you this.”
“Hands in the air, Victor!” Edward, the security guard, yelled. An envelope fell from Victor’s pocket. “Step back from the package,” Edward ordered. “Should I call for backup with a K-9 bomb-sniffing dog, sir?”
Talk about overkill from the retired cop turned security guard. “That won’t be necessary.” Marcus bent to pick up the envelope.
“Step back, sir. It could be laced with an illegal substance,” Edward warned.
“Is it?” He eyed Victor, folding his arms and leaving the envelope on the ground.
“No. It’s a money order.” Victor’s hands were still up.
“Stand down, Edward,” Marcus said, then motioned for Victor to pick up the envelope. “Let’s have a seat over there.” He pointed to a corner nook that was private yet still in the open.
“I’ll stay close by, sir.” Edward gave him a salute and waited near Sandra’s desk. His eyes were trained on Victor like a German shepherd waiting for his next meal.
“What’s going on?” Marcus waited for Victor to sit, then sat across from him. Checking the time, he waited impatiently.
“I came to say thank you for bailing me out.” Victor leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, then looked away before meeting his eyes again. “I don’t know why you did it. I mean, you took away from your future children’s college fund for me, Latrice, and my sons.” He choked and handed over the envelope.
“My bond money will be returned unless you skip your court date.” Marcus squinted. “You plan on skipping town?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He stared.
“Good answer.” Marcus nodded and hesitantly accepted the envelope and peeked inside. It was a money order for $5,000. He blinked. “Whoa. Where did you get this type of money?” He hoped it wasn’t drug money or from other illegal activity.
“I got a settlement the other day, and it kept bugging me why would you help me when I know I wasn’t showing you any respect.”
